The Unseen

When I thought "birthright", I thought stereotypical Jews, you know, the ones with funny tiny hats and thick grainy New Yorker accents. Although my family is Jewish, I am not a religious person. I was warned that the country was dangerous and they disliked Americans. I refused to listen. I sought adventure. But after my trip, I felt different.

I sat Indian style (which is now referred to as criss cross apple sauce, uh oh I just aged myself) surrounded by my peers outside the entrance to Yad Vashem, the Jewish memorial to the six million victims of the holocaust. While listening to our group leader, I became distracted by the girls sitting to my left. Young, bubbly blonde: "it's totes amazeballs. I got crunk every night." Young, scantily clad brunette: "I know, right. This is cray cray." I inwardly sighed and chanted to myself "its almost over, only a few more days until I go home."

As I walked inside the entrance of the building, I was given a new identity. I was now a young girl who enjoyed school, but more importantly, I was a holocaust victim. I walked through the exhibits and pictured my life as the young girl. I envisioned eagerly sitting in class waiting for the next nugget of wisdom to slip from my teacher's lips. I visualized playing with my friends until the sun fell below the clouds. I imagined my biggest worry, if my mother ever learned I was the one who ate all the cookies. As I looked a photo of a group of women, sunken eyes and battered limbs, I pictured myself in a concentration camp.

I'm cold, tired, and my scalp is prickly. I'm dirty and hungry, but I am lucky. I am alive. These things are minuscule compared to the others. Micah, the girl who sleeps in the bunks across from me caught cold, unlucky. She was gassed, "no time to heal the sick". Lea, the pregnant girl bunking across the room, unlucky. She was beaten to death, "babies are useless, they eat but don't work".

At that moment, my reverie ended and I felt different. I felt enlightened. I am lucky. I am alive. And I'm free. By the way, at the end of the tour, you find out if your victim was a survivor.